The people here are connoisseurs when it comes to eating
and drinking."
It was about eleven when they had this conversation. At twelve Kruse
drove the sleigh up to the door and Effi got in. Johanna was going to
bring a foot bag and furs, but Effi, after all that she had juat
passed through, felt so strongly the need of fresh air that she took
only a double blanket and refused everything else. Innstetten said to
Kruse: "Now, Kruse, we want to drive to the station where you and I
were this morning. The people will wonder at it, but that doesn't
matter. Say, we drive here past the 'Plantation,' and then to the left
toward the Kroschentin church tower. Make the horses fly. We must be
at the station at one."
Thus began the drive. Over the white roofs of the city hung a bank of
smoke, for there was little stir in the air. They flew past Utpatel's
mill, which turned very slowly, and drove so close to the churchyard
that the tips of the barberry bushes which hung out over the lattice
brushed against Effi, and showered snow upon her blanket. On the other
side of the road was a fenced-in plot, not much larger than a garden
bed, and with nothing to be seen inside except a young pine tree,
which rose out of the centre.
"Is anybody buried there?" asked Effi.
"Yes, the Chinaman."
Effi was startled; it came to her like a stab. But she had strength
enough to control herself and ask with apparent composure: "Ours?"
"Yes, ours. Of course, he could not be accommodated in the community
graveyard and so Captain Thomsen, who was what you might call his
friend, bought this patch and had him buried here.
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